


The Wings Award

by HedwigsTalons



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Bad Art, Brothers, Gen, Hiking, Teamwork, Young Tracys, challenge, rescue scouts - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:26:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22662460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HedwigsTalons/pseuds/HedwigsTalons
Summary: Scott has to use his strengths and admit his weaknesses if he wants to achieve the highest award in Rescue Scouts - his Wings Award.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	The Wings Award

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve loosely based the Rescue Scout structure on UK scouting in that each section is age based with a range of skills badges and awards that can be earnt. The Wings Award is a rough approximation of the Chief Scout’s Award available to each UK section.

“Troop! Dismiss!”

The call rang out across the hall causing twenty or so boys and girls to leave their places and head towards the door. Some were already pulling their scarves off and tucking them screwed up into pockets before they had even left the room.

“Scott, can I have a quick word before you go.”

A smartly dressed boy approaching thirteen paused. After a quick word to the sibling by his side he turned and headed back towards the troop leader.

She appraised him as he approached. Even at the end of a busy evening his uniform was still immaculate. It hadn’t gone unnoticed among the leadership team that he always took a moment to readjust his shirt before final parade. The sash band was full of badges with a few of the more recent awards spilling over onto the back.

“Scott, this will be your last term with us here in Buzzards. After the holidays you will be old enough to fly up to Condors. Now I’ve had a look through your troop record and there is every chance you could achieve your Wings Award over the next term. You only have a couple more criteria to tick off.”

He nodded politely. Scott was well aware of the requirements of the Wings Award, the highest award attainable within each section of Rescue Scouts. Since the day he joined he had read and reread the criteria. Very few Scouts actually achieved the award. He hadn’t witnessed a single Buzzard achieve their section’s Wings Award in the whole time he had been in the troop. It was an honour had had often daydreamed about.

He realised the troop leader had started talking again.

“Now you only need to do one more hike and we can easily arrange that. Chris needs to lead a nature walk for one of his awards so we can make sure you are part of the group he takes. That just leaves getting a badge from the creative theme and mentoring a new Buzzard to prepare them for taking their oath. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. We wouldn’t normally partner siblings together but Virgil is the only new Buzzard we have this term. Will that be a problem? Because if it is we can try and pair you with someone from a different troop.”

Scott looked across at Virgil who was waiting patiently for him by the doors. The shirt looked a little too big for him still and he was nervously fiddling with the end of his empty badge sash. 

“It won’t be a problem. I’d be happy to mentor Virgil.”

The troop leader visible relaxed. Rescue Scout Troop 162 hadn’t had a Buzzard earn their Wings in about five years. The award was a rare one but most troops generally managed one or two a year and Troop 162 was earning a bit of a reputation in the district. It wasn’t that the Troop was bad, it just didn’t seem to attract kids that lived fully to the ideals of the Rescue Scouts. For many of those that attended it was just another club to do of an evening. Scott Tracy had been like a beacon of light. He had arrived as a keen ten year old and over two years later his enthusiasm was still there. 

“That’s great. As long as you can get one of the creative badges done in your own time you should have got your Wings before the month is out leaving time to spare before we lose you to Condors.”

Scott saluted smartly and headed for the exit.

Virgil chattered excitedly on the journey home. He had watched Scott head off to Rescue Scouts week after week and now he was finally old enough to join the troop too. He had looked through all the badge criteria and was reeling off the awards he wanted to try and earn. Scott couldn’t help but smile at the younger boy’s enthusiasm.

“I take it you enjoyed it then?”

Virgil nodded, his eyes shining. The meeting had been fun but the chance to do something just the pair of them together had made it even better. At home he had to share Scott with the others. When he had turned ten and been told he could join the troop he felt incredibly grown up. This was something special to them.

“So you’ll be coming back with me next week?”

Another nod.

Now it was Scott’s turn to smile. He was looking forward to sharing this with Virgil. Their father had helped him learn what he needed for the awards but their father wasn’t always around. Virgil was at the stage of hero worship where he hung off of Scott’s every word. Unlike many older brothers Scott was happy with the attention. The troop leader needn’t have worried; Scott would mentor Virgil properly and Virgil would absorb every word like a sponge.

xoxoxox

“A Rescue Scout is calm. A Rescue Scout is brave. Never scared…um, Scott, what comes next?”

“Always prepared to help, to guide, to save.” Scott patiently finished off the oath. “Don’t look so worried. We still have a few days before you do it for real. And if you do forget they aren’t going to throw you out. If need be the Troop Leader can say a line and you copy, loads of kids do it that way.”

“Did you do it that way?”

“Well…no.”

“Then neither will I. Test me again.”

It was a warm Sunday morning. Both boys had finished all their homework and chores and were taking a slow walk towards the scout hall, day packs on their backs, ready to head off on a nature walk. Scott had really taken the role of mentor to heart. Every question Virgil threw his way he answered as best his could. Virgil had become his shadow such was the younger boy’s determination to learn everything he could in preparation for taking his oath. Because Scott took Rescue Scouts seriously, so did he. Scott had no doubts that Virgil would be fine but with investiture day approaching the nerves were showing though.

The younger Tracy’s enthusiasm had not gone unnoticed by the troop leaders either. Nor had the strong bond between the pair. While many siblings would ignore each other during troop meetings the Tracy boys tended to gravitate together. If a game or activity called for pairs the two seemed to be magnetically attracted. 

It was this bond, and Virgil’s tendency to follow instructions given to him by either Scott or the leaders that meant Virgil had been chosen to make up the numbers on the nature walk. Normally the troop leaders wouldn’t send such a new scout out on an unaccompanied hike but the walk was being led by another senior Buzzard and with Scott on the scene too they were confident Virgil would be well looked after.

The leaders were already waiting at the hall when Virgil and Scott arrived but the other Rescue Scouts making up the group had yet to appear. Over the course of the next ten minutes the other Buzzards chosen for the excursion arrived in ones and twos. Eventually a group of 5 girls and boys was assembled and ready to receive their instructions.

The group safety equipment was shared out. Chris, as leader of the excursion, grabbed the junior radio and map. Hannah took custody of the first aid kit while Ellen packed the camping stove. That left the rope for Scott. Virgil claimed a spare map so as not to feel left out.

The group set off at an easy pace. The weather was fine and they had plenty of time to complete their journey. School had already been back a few weeks and September was drawing to a close but the heat of summer was lingering. The paths they followed were dusty and the grasses dry. Their small town was surrounded by prime agricultural country and it didn’t take long for the only buildings in sight to be a few scattered farmhouses. Flat fields spread out for miles around them.

With the exception of Virgil the group was made up of some of the oldest in Troop 162. They chattered easily and pointed out the different plants and animals they encountered, ready for recording at the next rest point. The monoculture that dominated the region meant the lists were pretty bland. It didn’t matter though. Each just enjoyed the chance to be out with their friends.

With the sun high over head Chris called the group to a halt for a lunch stop. They were at a small stand of trees which provided some shade and shelter from the heat which had become baking and slightly oppressive. 

Packs were thrown gratefully to the ground. Dust was brushed ineffectually from uniforms. More than one face was smeared with muck where sweaty brows had been wiped with a grime covered hand. Each was grateful that they carried copious amounts of water; it made the packs heavy but they all knew better than to risk dehydration.

They were ahead of schedule and could afford some time to relax in the little corner of calm they were resting in. Day packs were turned into pillows as they stretched out in the shade of the trees.

None of them realised Chris had wandered off until they heard the scream. 

Scott was first to his feet with the others quickly following. 

“Chris! Chris! Where are you?”

There was no answer.

The four remaining Rescue Scouts crashed through the trees in the direction the scream had come from. The pulled up short when the ground fell away in front of them.

On the far side of the trees from the path was a creek. The channel was deep, the sides near vertical. The stream in its base was low and languid after the hot summer. A clear rivulet that flowed over the stony bed. In wetter times the creek would fill with storm water as it ran off the fields for now the water was shallow and a good ten feet below the level of the ground.

At the top of the creek bank was a neat pile of clothes. A pair of boots with socks neatly tucked inside, shirt, scarf and badge sash.

At the bottom of the creek bank lay Chris. The water didn’t fill the whole of the creek bed and he was sprawled on a small, silty beach. One arm was bent at an unnatural angle. Blood was trickling from a gash above his eye, staining the surrounding earth red.

Scott lay on his stomach looking over the edge. As he tried to assess the best thing to do the figure in the base of the creek groaned and tried to push himself upright before flopping painfully back to a prone position.

The Rescue Scouts breathed a sigh of relief. Not only was Chris alive, he was conscious. 

It was evident that Chris had been tempted by the cool water and stripped off to paddle. Somehow he had slipped and fallen down the bank. What made matters worse was that Chris had kept the junior radio in his trouser pocket. The device was lying in pieces around the fallen scout.

They were miles from town with no way of calling for help. The situation did not look good. Their leaders had always drummed it in to them never to wander off alone. Now it looks like all the dire warnings had come true. 

Scott was the first to snap out of the shock.

“Hannah, Ellen; I need you to run to the nearest farm to call for help. Take one of the maps so you can show them exactly where we are. Virgil, you fetch the first aid kit and bring it straight back to me.”

The three Rescue Scouts set off on their allocated tasks leaving Scott on the bank talking to Chris. Virgil was soon back with him bringing not just the first aid kit but all the discarded day packs.

“Chris, it’s going to be ok. Hannah and Ellen have gone for help. We’ll soon have you out.”

A groan from the creek bed was the only response he got.

Scott ran through all his Rescue Scout training in his head. It was one thing to practice scenarios at the hall but quite another to meet them in real life. The first rule was always to keep yourself out of danger. If he tried to get down to Chris he risked the bank crumbing beneath him too and that could leave two of them stuck by the river. He decided to bide his time, offering reassurance from above. Surely the rescue services would reach them soon.

The minutes ticked by.

“Scotty.” The voice from beside him was small and worried. Scott turned to look into wide brown eyes that showed an uncharacteristic fear. “Scotty, what if no one comes? What if they can’t get to us out here?”

It was a fear that Scott himself had been trying to suppress. 

The logical side of him knew that, as long as Hannah and Ellen found a phone, then help would arrive. The troubling question was how long that help would take to reach them. Chris’ head injury was still bleeding. Scott had tried to keep the other boy talking but Chris kept fading in and out of consciousness. The noonday sun was also sending it’s full glare onto the stricken scout, adding the potential for heatstroke to the list of complications.

“It’ll be ok Virg. I want to go down and check on Chris though.”

“But what if you slip too?” 

“How about if I use the rope? You can help lower me down, just like when Gordon got stuck in the tree at home.”

“But we don’t have a harness for you.”

“I’ll tie one in to the rope. I had to do it for the Knot Work badge.” Scott sounded more confident than he felt but he didn’t want Virgil picking up on any of his concerns. So far the younger boy had stayed remarkably calm but as time went on it was more and more difficult to keep the fears supressed.

To think was to act. 

With a plan half formed the boys moved to set it in motion. Scott tied himself into the rope using a rough emergency harness. An Italian hitch around a nearby tree formed the belay system. Virgil sacrificed his pristine sash to form a barrier between the rope and the tree, the smooth new material stopping the lifeline from snagging on the rough bark.

Scott carefully climbed down the bank while Virgil kept a steadying hold on the rope. It was only a short drop but Chris was evidence of what could go wrong with an uncontrolled descent. 

As soon as he reached the creek bed Scott began to run through his first aid checks. He was glad that Emergency Aid was one of the topics they practiced so regularly. 

He collected up the fresh water and first aid kit sent down after him by Virgil and started to tend to the injuries. He worked methodically; dressing the head wound, strapping the arm with a splint and bandage, cooling Chris down. Chris’s shirt was used to rig up some shade. All the while Scott kept talking to Chris and Virgil, being the steady rock they all needed. 

In order to keep his younger brother occupied Scott had tasked Virgil with keeping a detailed time log of the incident and when each treatment was given. It wasn’t really necessary because they had no medicines they could administer but it gave the younger boy a focus.

When the emergency services and Rescue Scout Leaders finally arrived, what felt like hours later to the waiting trio, it was to a very different scene than they expected. Instead of panicked children they were met by two boys showing calm and maturity beyond their years and a casualty all prepped for transfer to hospital. 

xoxoxox

Virgil stood in front of the leaders at the front of the hall. His salute was precise and his voice clear as he recited the Rescue Scout oath without a fault. He then turned and saluted the surrounding formation of scouts as he was formally welcomed as a full member of Troop 162. 

His eyes strayed to the back wall of the room. There in the corner stood his father who had kept his promise to be there as witness. If Virgil’s smile had been big before it positively split his face as he swelled with pride.

He was about to return to his place in the troop when the leader stopped him.

“Please can Scott also come and join us at the front.”

Scott looked puzzled but went to join his brother at the front of the hall.

“After the events this weekend I am pleased to present two further awards. The paramedics who attended the incident on the hike this weekend contacted headquarters. They explained that the level of care you gave, and teamwork you showed in reaching Chris in the first place, was beyond what they would have expected from children. Now as Rescue Scouts we do have the advantage that we practice for events such as this but it shows real strength of character to keep your head when faced with a true emergency. Headquarters agreed with the assessment of the paramedics and so I’m pleased to present you both with the Rescue Scout Award for Exemplary Conduct.”

The brothers saluted and accepted the special awards in stunned silence.

Jeff was also stunned. He had been aware that his sons had returned from their hike early but the boys had been sketchy with the details. He was aware that one of the scouts had been injured somehow but the boys had made no mention of any actions on their part that could merit a special award.

After the meeting closed the troop leader called Jeff over.

“You must be very proud of your sons. Scott has been an absolute credit to the troop and it looks like Virgil is headed the same way.” The leader sighed wistfully. “It’s just a shame the Conduct award doesn’t count towards Scott’s Wings. We’re still hopeful he’ll get there in the end though.”

Back at home Virgil was sent straight up to bed. Scott made to head up too to read a book but his father called him back.

“Scott, I think you have some explaining to do. My study, please.”

Scott followed his father through to the study. A sacred place reserved for either information not meant to be divulged to siblings or for the most serious variety of telling off. Scott wasn’t quite sure what the purpose of tonight’s visit would be but he knew better than to question his father before they were behind closed doors.

“Now Scott, I think it’s time you told me everything that happened this weekend. Exemplary Conduct awards don’t just get handed out like sweets.”

Scott took a deep breath and related the whole tale. He told it calmly and without drama. While they had all been brought up to be proud of their achievements, bragging was frowned upon in the Tracy household.

“And was this incident responsible for Virgil’s sash looking like something the dog got hold of tonight?”

“Yes sir.” 

Scott knew Virgil had been upset that evening because his uniform had lost its smart new look. Being used as a buffer against the tree had left the sash torn and stained. 

“I see. Well I think Virgil deserves a replacement seeing as he sacrificed his belongings for a good cause. I’ll make sure he has a new one before next week. He might need help getting his troop badges sewn on straight though.”

Scott took the hint that this meant his mentoring duties weren’t yet over.

If Scott thought his interview in the study was over he was mistaken.

“Your leaders also mentioned your Wings Award” Jeff continued. “What’s the story there? You certainly seem to have enough badges to qualify.”

Scott suddenly found the floor very interesting. He shuffled his feet.

“Scott?” Jeff prompted.

“I just can’t do it” he muttered to a crack in the floorboards. “It’s the creative theme. I’m no good at that stuff.”

Jeff looked closer at his son’s sash, filled with a mosaic of different awards. He was familiar with the scheme and could spot plenty of skills badges from the themes of science, sport, community, environment and emergency aid. The sixth strand within the Rescue Scouts, creativity, was completely unrepresented. 

“And that’s what is holding you back?”

A nod.

“Scott, have you ever considered why Rescue Scouts has those themes and why you need to attempt all sectors for your Wings?”

A subtle head shake.

“It’s precisely because very few people are good at everything. If you could achieve it by only doing those things you are good at it wouldn’t be an achievement at all. It’s a true challenge because it requires you to push yourself out of your comfort zone and to be prepared to learn from others who do have those skills.”

Jeff pulled up the list of creative awards on a nearby tablet and scrolled through them.

“Now things like Drama and Singer are out because you need to do a public performance for those and that would be a bit tricky to arrange in time.”

Scott breathed a sigh of relief. His singing and acting left a lot to be desired and a public performance would have been humiliating. It looked like he wasn’t going to escape completely though. 

“But there is nothing stopping you trying your hand at Artist. You just need to submit an evidence portfolio for that and I’m sure Virgil would be happy to give you a hand. You could both go for it at the same time.”

“I can’t ask Virgil for help.”

“Why not? It’s not like you’re expected to learn these things completely on your own. You let me help you with your knots and your Astronomy badge.”

“Because, well, Virgil’s younger than me. It’s different. I can’t go to him for help.”

Jeff looked at his eldest son. Scott was rapidly approaching those awkward teenage years. He was already shooting up in height. His serious demeanour when in uniform made him seem older sometimes and it was easy to forget that he could still harbour insecurities. The younger boys often put Scott on a pedestal. He was their leader and their guide. To admit there was something he not only found challenging but that one of the younger ones was better at was a serious blow to his pride.

“You and your brothers are all very different and have different strengths. For Virgil it’s art and music and understanding how things work. John already knows far more about space than you do. I’m sure Gordon and Alan will show their own talents over time although at the moment they are just the masters of causing mischief and losing socks. I would hope that you would be willing to pool those strengths and learn from each other. There is nothing shameful in asking for help. Now, think on what I’ve said and off to bed with you.”

It was a very subdued Scott that headed up to his room that night. He had always been the one the others looked up to. Strong. Infallible. This was going to take some serious thought.

xoxoxox

“No, no. You can’t just colour the tree in green. It won’t look right.”

“But trees are green” came the confused response.

“Look again. There’s blue and purple in the shadows and some of the glossy leaves are practically white where they catch the light and reflect the sun.”

Scott looked more closely at the sketch on Virgil’s pad. Sure enough the younger boy had used a far wider variety of colours that Scott would have for a drawing of a simple tree. The result was more realistic than his own efforts and popped off the page. He sighed, put down the green and picked up a deep plum colour instead. 

It had taken a lot of courage for him to ask Virgil to tutor him for the Artist badge but he had to admit the younger boy made a good teacher. He had even let Scott share his good pencils, the ones that stayed on a high shelf out of the reach of sticky little fingers. Scott’s efforts were improving and he nearly felt ready to put them forward for public scrutiny. Or at least the necessary scrutiny of the troop leaders.

The brothers worked hard on their portfolios. Both were putting in the effort but for different reasons. Virgil, because it would be his first skills badge in Buzzards and he loved the topic. Scott, because it would likely be the last skills badge he attempted and because it was a subject he found hard. 

It was with some trepidation that they finally handed the two smart folders of completed pieces over to the troop leaders. Virgil had carefully selected his best work whereas Scott was just happy that his sketches no longer got mistaken for something produced by Alan. 

When Jeff returned home late that night the house was in darkness. There on the kitchen table sat the two folders, each topped with a small badge bearing a crossed paintbrush and pencil. Next to the folders, scrawled in Scott’s untidy hand, was a note.

_Wings next week if you can make it_

Jeff smiled. There was no way he was going to miss his son being presented with his Wings. He knew Scott had learnt a valuable lesson over the course of attempting this final skills badge. The Artist badge had been a far harder challenge for the youngster than any of the others had been. He was proud of the maturity and humility Scott had shown in admitting his weakness and accepting help.

The boys had kept their portfolios hidden until this point. Leaving them on the kitchen table was evidently an invitation for him to see what they had achieved. Jeff spread out the pictures. He didn’t need to look at the requisite self portraits to know which son had produced each folder. Virgil’s pieces were far more accomplished and seemed to show the essence of each subject. Scott’s work was more clumsy and immature but he knew the effort he eldest son had poured into the pages. The table was covered in portraits, landscapes, small sketches and abstract pieces. The boys had put their hearts into the project.

Two pictures caught his eye. The boys had evidently attempted to revamp the Rescue Scout uniform. The basic two toned blue garment remained but the badge sashes had gone, instead replaced by coloured utility belts; green for Virgil, grey for Scott. He read the annotations with amusement. What had started out as a serious exercise in designing a uniform that would be highly practical had at some point descended into flights of fantasy. He could see the sense in the integrated harnesses and sturdy boots and gloves. For some reason though Scott had added a jet pack to his sketch while the idea of Virgil being given control of a laser cutter was not one he wanted to contemplate. 

He carefully slotted the artworks back into their respective folders and went off in search of a pen. He knew he had an early start in the morning and would be gone before the boys got up. Pulling the sheet of note paper towards him he added his response under Scott’s invitation.

_Wouldn’t miss it for the world_


End file.
